


Bright As His Buttons

by FunkyinFishnet



Series: To Live Is To Drown [3]
Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Alternate Canon, Friendship, Injury, M/M, Male Slash, Workplace, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobbs proves his worth to both Inspector Reid and Long Susan. Jackson is pleased to have such an eager student.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright As His Buttons

 

 

“And I’m telling you that I won’t be going nowhere! I didn’t ask for this!”

 

Hobbs almost dropped the box of files he’d been bringing up from the basement; he recognised that voice. Quickly, he delivered the box to the sergeant who’d asked for it and rushed to the front desk. Sure enough, there was Lottie, in a green and black silk dress that would have looked very fine on her if not for the great tear down the front and the dirt all over it. The matching bonnet over her deep red curls was shoved badly to one side and there was a scratch on her face that made Hobbs wince, not to mention the awful way her hand looked to be in.

 

Her eyes were flashing though, meaning trouble, and here Hobbs’ own eyes widened greatly, for the man she was so angrily arguing with was Inspector Reid. He had a hold of her arm and Lottie’s shouts were drawing quite a crowd.

 

“You can help us with our enquiries into this gang of cutthroats and thieves, or I’ll…”

 

Lottie sneered at Inspector Reid’s words. “Or you’ll what? You’ve no right to charge me, or hold me here. And if I was ever to speak of such things, it would certainly not be to you, Inspector Reid.”

 

Before Reid could find a reason to drag her down to the cells, Hobbs darted forward, making himself known to them both. Lottie’s expression lit up.

 

“Constable Hobbs, finally a man of sense and character.”

 

Hobbs’ ears went red at her praise, but he managed a nervous smile, grateful for her use of his rank. It made him stand a little straighter as he took another step forward, very aware of Inspector Reid’s close and furious presence. Maybe if he pretended the Inspector wasn’t there it might be easier?

 

“Miss Lottie, are you okay? What’s happened?”

 

Lottie also ignored the Inspector, despite his grip on her arm, and shrugged a shoulder. “I was visiting a gentleman friend not far off from here. Then as I was making my way home again, I got caught up in a crowd, nothing to fret about.”

 

Only clearly there was something else going on, the Inspector certainly seemed to think so. Ah, the gang that he and Sergeant Drake were so close on the heels of, thugs that moved seamlessly through the streets stealing whatever they wanted and cutting the throats of those they were paid enough to, yet somehow their identities remained secret. And Lottie had crossed their path; clearly she’d been lucky to get away. But she wasn’t likely to talk to the Inspector about her experience; she’d told Hobbs before that she’d seen too many friends suffer under the heel of the police, dragged away for making a living, as she put it, though Hobbs was certain that the Inspector saw it very differently.

 

Maybe…Hobbs darted a quick look at the Inspector who was looking back at him with encouragement in his expression. He always said that a connection with a witness could be very important when it came to gaining vital information, and Hobbs didn’t want to see Lottie locked away, something that the inspector would see come to pass very soon if she didn’t cooperate. So he cleared his throat, aware of the very interested audience and kept his eyes on Lottie.

 

“Why don’t you tell me about it? We could sit somewhere quiet, away from eyes and ears, and let you rest you a while. Then you could return to Miss Hart’s, so Captain Jackson can take a look at you.”

 

Lottie’s mouth twisted but she clearly knew what the Inspector had planned for her if she didn’t take up Hobbs’ offer. So she nodded and glared at Inspector Reid until he released her arm. Hobbs offered his elbow; Lottie wouldn’t admit it but she was likely quite tired and Hobbs wanted to show her that things were going to be all right. He didn’t like seeing her so sad.

 

“Might I suggest my office?” the Inspector said, though it clearly wasn’t a suggestion at all.

 

“I suppose you'll be in it,” Lottie snipped.

 

But she did follow Reid when he led the way to his office and pulled the blinds so that no one would disturb them, except in the gravest of emergencies. Lottie sat down, the Inspector taking his usual place behind the desk, causing Hobbs to sort of hover beside Lottie. Reid looked at him expectantly; Hobbs’ nerves jumped a little, he was being allowed to lead.

 

He cleared his throat and stayed close to Lottie, to reassure her.

 

“So what happened, miss?”

 

Lottie purposefully kept her eyes on him, cutting Reid out altogether. “As I said, I was visiting a friend…”

 

“Where exactly?” Reid interrupted.

 

“Couple of streets west,” Lottie retorted, her vagueness goading. “And my friend was gone in a carriage after we finished meeting.”

 

“Not long after he paid you.”

 

Hobbs quickly jumped in before Lottie could spit at Reid's tone – he’d seen her do it before. “Which route did you take, miss?”

 

“The usual near the river and straight across, no dallying as it’s customary for me to be asked for by another on this day. I’ll have disappointed him now of course, and Miss Susan.”

 

Hobbs winced; disappointing a customer was bad for business, which in turn disappointed Miss Hart. He patted carefully at Lottie’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand, miss, once it’s clear it was out of your hands.”

 

Lottie smiled and stroked at his hand. “You’re a sweet one, Dick. It’s why Miss Susan likes you so.”

 

Hobbs definitely kept his gaze from Reid as he answered. “I don’t think she does, miss, but thank you.”

 

Lottie’s smile became a grin and she patted his hand firmly. “So I was walking towards home when I heard footsteps, sudden and close-by. The street wasn’t busy and when I turned to look, a man grabbed for me and another ripped my gown.”

 

“How many do you think there were?” asked Hobbs.

 

“Three, a couple grabbing at me from behind and one before me.”

 

“That’s a smaller team than we’ve seen operate before,” Reid mused.

 

“Makes it easier, doesn’t it?” Lottie replied. “Easy to get away, easy bit of money-making if you know the look of someone whose just gone visiting.”

 

Reid’s eyes lit up and Hobbs just knew that the Inspector was turning over her words, making connections that few else could. It always made Hobbs feel a little too far behind.

 

“They follow those who’ve recently collected a wage, when they have no other job to fill their coffers…” Reid trailed off. “But why your dress?”

 

Hobbs answered for her. “Miss Hart’s girls, sir, usually she’s paid direct by the customer, but sometimes when the girls go visiting, they’re given the money there and they put it somewhere safe so as not to have it snatched.”

 

He’d heard the girls’ conversations about it more than once before and had seen Mary produce a purse of coins from within her corset. Lottie squeezed his hand.

 

“May I go now? I’ve told you everything.”

 

“Not how your fingers came to be so maligned,” Reid replied just as quickly.

 

“As I said, the men couldn’t find my gains, so they looked to cause me to reveal them. I screamed and folks were just appearing to see the commotion when your Blues turned up. The men ran and I was pulled here against my will.”

 

Lottie got to her feet, managing to adjust her bonnet even with a bad hand. Hobbs chewed on his lip for a moment, his indecision a brief knife edge. Ever since his death, as he and Jackson still called it, his pauses had been shorter.

 

“I could accompany her back to Miss Hart’s, sir. I've no work due.”

 

The Inspector’s thoughts seemed to be far away for a moment, then he snapped back to the present and stood up sharply, reaching for his bowler.

 

“A fine idea, which I shall step to also. I need a word with Miss Hart.”

 

Hobbs grimaced; Miss Hart was going to be angry enough that Lottie had missed an appointment and that he was in her house with his uniform on, Inspector Reid’s presence would be matches to gas. Lottie took his arm though and tugged him close to her side, in a way that made Hobbs flush. The girls often did such things to him because their silks and figures so improperly near always made him redden. It made them laugh and pull him closer still.

 

Lottie smiled happily as she led him out of the door, choosing again to not acknowledge Reid’s intent presence at Hobbs’ other side. At least she had lost most of her sadness; Hobbs could still see some lurking in the corners of her eyes though. The encounter she’d had with those thugs had shaken her more than she’d admit to while the Inspector was within hearing.

 

Still she laughed and pointed things out, acting as though they were walking for pleasure. She was beautiful despite the ruined dress and marks upon her, Hobbs told her so, gaining himself another squeeze and a look on her face that was not a lie. He’d made her happy, that was good.

 

They were just nearing the turn of the road towards Miss Hart’s house when Hobbs’ name was called. He knew the voice instantly; it caused a smile to break unbidden across his face. His sister, Ella, rushed towards him, in gingham and edged lace and with a rosiness to her that made his heart glad.

 

“Ella! Why are you round these parts?”

 

Ella held up her basket, filled with wrapped packages. “Mama has needlework to complete before the morrow, so I'm collecting orders.”

 

“You’d best be going straight back.”

 

“I am.” Ella turned to Lottie with a happy smile and a neat head nod. “Hello, Miss Lottie.”

 

“Miss Ella, you're as pretty as that dress of yours. Give my love to your ma, won’t you?”

 

“I will, she said that if I saw you or Lillian to say that you’re welcome to take tea with her.”

 

Lottie didn’t even pause. “How kind, tell her we accept, once we have the time.”

 

Ella nodded, pleased that she’d delivered the message so well and received so positive a reply, then her gaze reached Inspector Reid who had remained silent until now. Hobbs quickly made the introductions.

 

“Sir, this is my sister, Ella. Ella, this is Inspector Reid of H Division.”

 

Ella bobbed into a curtsey. “Of course, Dick talks of you often.”

 

Inspector Reid nodded at her, touching his fingers to his hat. “And your brother has talked of you, of how proud he is of his sister.”

 

Ella coloured prettily and gave Hobbs a look that made him grin. She was preening in her own quiet way. And how kind it had been of the Inspector to say such a thing. Hobbs stood a little taller.

 

Ella seemed to catch herself, realising the time. “You’ll be home for dinner tomorrow, Dick? It’s mutton.”

 

“As long as London lets me, Ella.”

 

Ella nodded and smiled, used to such a reply, and bobbed a couple of goodbyes before hurrying off again. Lottie smiled.

 

“I swear she grows taller every time I see her.”

 

“Our mother swears the same. She says Ella must be stretching herself in order to gain the latest fashion in gowns.”

 

Lottie’s laughter took them right to Miss Hart’s doorstep and Hobbs only had the briefest moment to remove his helmet and pray fitfully that Miss Hart wouldn’t demand that he leave her premises and never return. They entered the house to an immediate chorus of questions. There were only a couple of customers in the open parlour, customers that Mary and Sarah immediately hurried up the stairs and away from the young man in a policeman’s uniform. Hobbs didn’t take offence.

 

“Lottie, you missed Squires,” Ruth hissed, her eyes wide when she saw Hobbs. “And why are you-.”

 

Inspector Reid entered at that moment, causing all questions to cease and the girls to migrate backwards. They didn't offer any greetings. Miss Hart marched out of her own parlour, clad in blue and black, her mouth a hard red line that only made Hobbs' worries worse. Her gaze was fixed on him.

 

“What is the meaning of this?”

 

“It's not Dick's fault,” Lottie jumped in. “Blues made me go to the station and Dick was kind enough to bring me back.”

 

“I insisted on accompanying them,” Inspector Reid spoke up. “I have questions, Miss Hart.”

 

“How novel,” Miss Hart's words were as hard as her mouth.

 

Hobbs felt compelled to speak up, guilt and worry still churning in him. “I'm sorry, Miss Hart. I didn't want Lottie walking alone in such a state.”

 

Miss Hart's gaze slid to Gracie for the briefest of moments, causing the girl to hurry off, likely to rouse Captain Jackson. Miss Hart looked at Hobbs a moment more and something in him unclenched in response; he could read that she was still angry but that she was also leaning towards laying the blame squarely on the Inspector. He nodded gladly, knowing that she would see everything displayed in his expression.

 

“There have been other incidences, have there not? In which girls recently moneyed have been set upon by thugs?” Inspector Reid pressed.

 

Miss Hart met his intent gaze with one of her own, steely and unbending. “A hazard of our streets, Inspector, and none so injured so as not to work. Those same thugs like to pay their way too.”

 

Whatever the Inspector was going to say next was cut off by Captain Jackson's entrance. He loped down the stairs, hair and shirt rumpled and a tint to his eyes that spoke of a recent imbibing of his hookah. Hobbs' heart twisted when the Captain's eyes met his.

 

Jackson turned his attention to Reid. “I assume there's good reason for disturbing my rest.”

 

Miss Hart claimed the answer by inclining her head just so and the Captain in turn looked Lottie up and down. He also looked briefly at Reid again, seeming to gauge something. Then he gestured towards the stairs.

 

“My supplies are beyond.” He extended a hand to Lottie, which she accepted with a small pleased smile. “You too, ferryman. Someone should hold to Lottie as I work.”

 

“The more the merrier,” Lottie replied with a deep delight that made Hobbs redden and the Inspector's demeanour harden.

 

Miss Hart's smile flexed into something more amused and malicious. “The boy is quite safe here, Inspector, as he has been for many nights now.”

 

Recognising an argument set to escalate; Hobbs hurried up the stairs after the Captain and Lottie. He found them already in Jackson's room; Lottie perched on the bed as Captain Jackson inspected her cut cheek before diligently cleaning it. His touch was always careful when tending to the girls.

 

Without being asked, Hobbs retrieved Jackson's surgeon's bag and began laying out what might be needed. Lottie’s expression curved into a smile, looking much more relaxed now that she was away from Inspector Reid.

 

“You've trained him nicely, Captain.”

 

Jackson finished cleaning the cut out before sorting through what Hobbs had laid out for him. “He learns well enough and thoroughly.”

 

His hand touched Hobbs' thigh whilst reaching for another cloth, to add to the compliment perhaps, or to tease Hobbs further. Hobbs stayed silent and hurried to fill a bowl with warm water, his skin humming from both the Captain’s words and gesture. Jackson still kept so much hidden, either it stayed silent or was masked by clever words, but Hobbs was almost sure that sometimes he was privileged with a view that few, save Miss Hart, got to glimpse – the Captain was often honest with him, via deeds if not by words.

 

Hobbs had felt the man’s hands in many different ways and knew the turn of his mood by the texture of each touch – if Jackson's day had been rotgut bad, if he’d exchanged words with the Inspector or Miss Hart, if ale had greatly taken him, if the past had closed in too much. The Captain wouldn’t always say it aloud, but Hobbs knew it anyway, by the manner in which fingers played on his body and lips went to task on his skin. He was a good student.

 

When he held out the bowl and Jackson dipped a cloth in the water, Hobbs licked his lips and let a wayward thumb catch at the ring on Jackson’s finger. Jackson paused long enough to meet his eye, cracked warmth in his gaze, before turning his attentions back to task and to Lottie’s indelicate words.

 

Jackson cleaned the blood from her hand and gently tested the bones. Lottie bit out a curse that caused Hobbs’ hand to hover near her shoulder. But Jackson continued his exploration and nodded finally, reaching for a bandage roll.

 

“There’s bones broken but you’ll heal and retrieve all movement.” He began winding the limb in bandages, careful but tight. “You’ll need to rest it fully first.”

 

Lottie swore some more but thanked him for the service before kissing Hobbs on the cheek as she passed, which almost made him drop the water bowl. “And you, Dick, for your kindness.”

 

Jackson looked very amused as Lottie left, cradling her bandaged hand, and Hobbs quickly set the bowl down. He couldn’t hear any shouting; perhaps things were now more settled between Inspector Reid and Miss Hart. After all, she did not want to see any of her girls hurt.

 

Jackson gathered his surgeon’s equipment back into his bag, one hand reaching for the cigarettes that were always in his jacket pocket and his mind already grasping for what Hobbs was dwelling on. “She’ll forgive you for turning up Blue. She may increase your rent for a spell though.”

 

Hobbs smiled weakly. “I feared she might throw me out, sir.”

 

“Susan hates Reid more than your uniform, Hobbs. Any time the blame can be laid on him is a good day for her.”

 

He really should go back downstairs, Hobbs thought; Inspector Reid would want him back to the station and might even climb the stairs to retrieve him. It was just that the Captain’s shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and there was smoke wreathing him and sometimes Hobbs could hardly _breathe_ because such a sight arrested him so.

 

Captain Jackson smirked, fully aware as always of his effect on Hobbs, and lingered close for a moment. Hobbs breathed him in, cataloguing the heady aroma, a habit formed lately that he could not break – tobacco, beer, perfume, face powder, bandages, blood, _Jackson_. The Captain’s nostrils flared and something flickered briefly in his expression. Hobbs still didn’t move, because he knew they were thinking the same thing.

 

They were alive. How had that happened?

 

Jackson broke the moment by plucking at the shining buttons of Hobbs’ uniform. The gesture immediately reminded Hobbs that the Inspector was still downstairs and no doubt waiting for him.

 

“Lessons pick up later,” Jackson cut through his thoughts with a tempting drawl. “If you’re of a mind to it.”

 

Hobbs nodded very rapidly. “Yes, sir. Have a good day, sir.”

 

His hand fumbled a brief stroke of Jackson’s shirt, to return the Captain's gesture and the feeling behind it, before he rushed out of the door and down the stairs where the Inspector and Miss Hart waited. The girls called their goodbyes as he passed and Miss Hart's left eyebrow moved fractionally. She did not care to speak; perhaps she feared it would let too much out while the Inspector was within earshot.

 

Hobbs raised his helmet towards her before fastening it once more beneath his chin and standing smartly before Inspector Reid. Warmth was still thrumming through him, the buttons of his uniform feeling especially bright. Did it show in his expression? The Inspector did not say, he uttered only that their business was concluded here for now and that they had work to return to at the station.

 

Miss Hart called out that the rent was due soon, and that she trusted the Constable would not forget. Hobbs heard both her meanings and quickly assured her that he would not. He thought of buttons and tutoring and smoke, and the room he was grateful to both drown and live in. The Inspector did not say a word.

 

_-the end_


End file.
